


Not In Numerical Order

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Resolutions, New Years, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: New Year's Resolution No. 13: TELL ENJOLRAS I LOVE HIM.He’s never been very good at sticking to his New Year’s resolutions, but maybe this year he’ll do better. This is going to be his year.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Okay, I'll admit it, I started writing this before New Years, but here we are, March 3rd, and I'm uploading it now. Whatever. This is who I am, okay?
> 
> WARNING: there is a panic attack. It is not very descriptive and is mostly just a lot of crying. Heads up in case that might set you off.

Grantaire’s New Year’s resolution list reads as follows:

  1. Attend regular therapy sessions.
  2. Be honest with my friends.
  3. Tell my friends I love them more often.
  4. ~~Tell Enjolras I love him?~~
  5. Apply to the internship, you coward. ~~~~
  6. Stop biting my nails. ~~~~
  7. Read more. ~~~~
  8. Be braver. ~~~~
  9. Learn to accept and be okay with criticism. ~~~~
  10. ~~Tell Enjolras I love him~~. ~~~~
  11. Stop smoking. ~~~~
  12. Be brave. ~~~~
  13. TELL ENJOLRAS I LOVE HIM. ~~~~



He’s never been very good at sticking to his New Year’s resolutions, but maybe this year he’ll do better. He sits, staring at the paper. Before he can let himself cross out the last resolution _again_ , he puts the lid back on the pen and sets it down.

Pinning the list to his corkboard, Grantaire takes a deep, determined breath. This is going to be his year. He’s going to work on his mental and physical health, really get started on his career (maybe quit his current job if things go well, but let’s not get carried away), and he’s going to tell Enjolras the truth.

The truth being that he’s been madly in love with him for quite some time now.

Well, he’s going to try to pluck up the courage to tell Enjolras. Hopefully it’ll pan out. He knows it’ll be good for him, but every time he tried this past year his throat closed up and the words got trapped. But he’s going to manage it. His anxiety will be dealt with; his love will be shared.

He’s always found the technique of ‘fake it till you make it’ to be an effective one.

He’s got a few hours before the New Year’s party that he’s hosting so he sits down to watch a few episodes of _Fresh off the Boat_ in the meantime. An hour later, he puts his laptop away and gets dressed for the party before going through to the front room to set up.

He’s not doing much in the way of decoration, just a banner that reads HAPPY NEW YEAR and a table for the snacks and drinks.

Bahorel, Feuilly, Éponine and Jehan are the first to arrive, filling the flat with noise and laughter, Éponine and Feuilly already a little drunk. Bahorel hooks his phone up to some speakers and starts blasting music. The New Year will arrive, it seems, to an odd mix of party tunes and show tunes.

Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta arrive with Cosette and Marius, bringing with them a bag full of bottles.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac show up right on time for the party to start, without Enjolras. Grantaire forces himself to not ask where he is, but Courfeyrac knows him, and comes over to let him know that Enjolras promised to come.

Grantaire laughs, waving him away, only a little embarrassed at how obvious he is.

The party really kicks off after that, music and drinking and good times all round. Enjolras rocks up a couple of hours late, apologising over and over again to Grantaire and their friends. He brought with him a couple of bottles of good champagne, though, so everyone forgives him quickly for being late.

Grantaire barely even thinks about Enjolras’ presence at the party anyway after that, beyond his awareness of his friend being there, too busy having a good time. There’s no room to worry about how Enjolras will react when Grantaire follows through on his new year’s resolution when all his friends are with him and filled with so much joy.

The build up to the New Year is incredible, all his friends up on their feet, glasses of champagne in their hands, broad smiles across their faces, shouting the countdown at the top of their lungs. Grantaire feels so alive. He kisses Éponine and Courfeyrac and Bahorel and Feuilly and hugs everyone else tightly, even Enjolras finds his way to Grantaire, pulling him in close for a hug and wishing him a happy new year.

The party carries on a while longer, everyone riding the high, but after a while it simmers down. The alcohol stops flowing quite so freely, and Grantaire’s kitchen gets raided for snacks. Someone turns the TV on and starts channel surfing, finding something suitably trashy for three in the morning.

A few go home, Musichetta and Bossuet practically carrying Joly between them, and Cosette and Marius still smiling so widely, arms wrapped tightly around each other’s waists.

Bahorel and Feuilly lean on each other on the sofa, watching the TV with absentminded smiles, while Jehan sleeps, curled up at the other end of the sofa. Éponine, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac are chatting quietly amongst themselves, and Enjolras… is nowhere to be seen.

Grantaire frowns and gets himself up off the floor to go search for him. He’s probably just in the bathroom, but Grantaire just wants to check he’s all right.

The hallway is empty, and the light in the bathroom is off. He decides to go check the kitchen, but when he turns the hall light off, he notices the light sneaking under the door from his own bedroom. Grantaire frowns and heads over.

He walks in to find Enjolras sitting on his bed, a piece of paper in his hand.

His heart freezes in his chest.

Enjolras looks up at him, wide-eyed.

Grantaire opens his mouth, completely unsure of what he’s going to say.

Enjolras beats him to it, anyway. “You love me?” he asks.

Oh, good, Grantaire thinks. He went into detail on the list. Grantaire is completely speechless. He stands there, chest feeling tight, his throat closing up. He can’t breathe. He doesn’t know what to say.

Enjolras stands up. He’s frowning at Grantaire, and Grantaire wants to die. He wonders for a moment why he isn’t tearing up, why he isn’t crying at the blatant disgust on Enjolras’ face. It would be just like him to start pathetically sobbing in front of Enjolras, but it’s just not processing. He simply stands there, gaping, shock coursing through his veins.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras says. “Do you love me?”

“That’s private,” Grantaire finally manages to say.

Enjolras’ hand tightens on the piece of paper, and it crumples in his grip. Grantaire winces at the sound.

“Gran _taire_ ,” Enjolras says, voice stern. “What…” He lifts his hands in a half-attempted shrug, visibly at a loss. “How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“A while…” Grantaire admits, his voice small. The shock has started to pass, and fear is taking its place. He knows the worst Enjolras can do is reject him, but his instincts are making him wary. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He can’t look at Enjolras.

Enjolras sighs and takes a step towards him. Automatically, Grantaire takes a step back.

“R,” Enjolras says. “It’s okay.”

“You’re not supposed to know yet,” Grantaire says. “You were at the bottom of the list.” His back hits the wall and his head falls back against it with a thud. He breathes out. There’s a lump in his throat and pretty soon his eyes will start to well up. The corners of his mouth are tugging downwards. “Oh my god,” he whispers.

Enjolras is just standing there staring at him. His stomach roils as his vision turns blurry. Grantaire sinks to the floor and buries his face in his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his legs. He can’t breathe. He lets out a sob. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Suddenly arms are wrapped around him and lips are pressed to the top of his head over and over again, a hundred kisses planted on his hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Enjolras is saying repeatedly. “Just breathe. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Grantaire continues to gasp for breath, clinging to Enjolras’ shirt desperately, tears streaming.

Enjolras’ shushes him, gently. “It’s all right. I’m not mad. It’s all right. Everything’s okay. Take your time,” he says. “Just work on breathing a little slower, there’s plenty of air, and we have all the time in the world. Everything’s okay.”

Grantaire lets out a loud sob as Enjolras continues to pet his hair, smoothing it down as he presses kisses to the top of Grantaire’s head. Grantaire hiccoughs and sniffs loudly. Enjolras holds him close and whispers to him, “Hey, hey, you’re doing great. You’re doing great. That’s it. That’s much better. Great job, Grantaire.”

Grantaire’s breathing is steadying out slowly but he can’t work out how to make his hands unclench from where they’re fisted in Enjolras’ shirt. Enjolras’ presence is warm and comforting, and Grantaire feels utterly exhausted and drifty as Enjolras rubs a hand up and down Grantaire’s arm.

Enjolras kisses his temple. “Oh, R… There we go. Nice and steady.”

Grantaire has never felt less steady in his life. He feels irrationally cold and shivers are starting to overtake him. “I’m sorry,” he croaks, feebly.

“Shh, don’t apologise. There’s nothing to apologise for,” Enjolras tells him. “I didn’t mean to make you panic like that. I’m sorry for confronting you in your personal space about something you obviously weren’t ready to share.”

Grantaire is shaking pathetically in Enjolras’ arms, but Enjolras is holding him securely.

“How about we sit down properly?” Enjolras asks. “Maybe on the bed? It would be more comfortable.”

Grantaire manages a nod and, feeling almost unbearably self-conscious, lets Enjolras help him move onto the bed. Grantaire sits with his back against the backboard and rubs at his eyes with his fingers, trying to clear away some of the tears. He probably only manages to make his eyes more red and his face look even more ugly than it usually does after crying.

Enjolras sits down next to him and asks, “Can I hold you?”

Grantaire flushes, embarrassed, but nods. Enjolras pulls him close and holds him tight. “I’m so sorry I upset you,” Enjolras says.

“Not your fault,” Grantaire mumbles, fingers grasping at the fabric of Enjolras’ shirt once again.

“No, it is. I came into your room, read your private things, and then confronted you about it when you’re already tired and a little drunk. I shouldn’t have done any of those things,” Enjolras says.

“It’s okay,” Grantaire says. “Must have come as a surprise.”

Enjolras laughs, softly. “You could say that.” He sighs. “I’m sorry you were so afraid of me finding out.”

Grantaire shuts his eyes. “Do you hate me?” he asks.

Enjolras sighs. “Of _course_ _not_ , Grantaire.”

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire repeats. “I’m so tired.” His eyes open for a second, glancing up at Enjolras’ face anxiously. Enjolras looks deeply troubled, and Grantaire closes his eyes to it all. He tightens his grip on Enjolras’ shirt. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t,” Enjolras says, immediately. “Grantaire, I don’t hate you at all. I… knew you… looked up to me, admired me even, and even just for that I cared for you. To know that you love me…”

“Don’t,” Grantaire says, softly. “You don’t love me just because you know that I love you now.”

“You’re right. I love you for so much more than that-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Grantaire interrupts. He shakes his head, ashamed at the tears building up behind his eyelids. He tries to blink them away. “You don’t love me, and the fact that you know that I love you can’t change that.” A tear slips down his cheek. Gentle fingers brush it away, and Grantaire lifts his head to meet Enjolras’ eyes. Enjolras is smiling down at him.

“I’ve always wanted what’s best for you, always had to fight the urge to look after you and protect you and comfort you. I’ve cared for you for so long, even though you drive me to desperation with your endless insistence upon cynicism, and I do believe that I love you,” Enjolras tells him, sincerity ringing in every word. “But you don’t have to believe me. That’s okay. It’s very late, we’re both tired and a little drunk still, you just had a panic attack, and you had no idea that I felt anything like this for you. You don’t have to believe me right now, just give me the chance to show you, and you can show me how you love me.”

Grantaire doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Enjolras says. “I’d like it if I could stay here with you, if that’s all right…” he adds. “I can go back to the living room though, if you’d be more comfortable-”

“No,” Grantaire says, quickly, before blushing red. “Stay here. I’d like you to stay here.”

Enjolras’ smile widens. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s get out of our jeans at least before we sleep.” When Grantaire hesitates, Enjolras squeezes him gently. “I won’t look, if you don’t want me to. We can turn off the lights first, if you want. I just hate sleeping in jeans, and I can’t imagine you enjoy it particularly.”

Grantaire allows himself to admit that he doesn’t but does accept Enjolras’ idea of turning off the lights first. He thinks if he sees Enjolras in his underwear, he’ll start second-guessing all of this all over again. There’s nothing remotely sexy about the situation, even as they press their bodies together, Grantaire’s back to Enjolras’ stomach, under the covers, feet touching hesitantly, Enjolras’ arms wrapping around Grantaire.

Enjolras kisses the back of Grantaire’s head. “Feel free to shove me off you if you need to,” he whispers.

Grantaire snuggles back against him, and then rolls over to face him instead, arm snaking around Enjolras’ waist daringly. He hides his face under Enjolras’ chin, but he’s smiling widely in the dark. It’s not easy to believe this is really happening, and everything in him is telling him that Enjolras’ just feels bad for making him panic, that this will all end when the sun comes up.

There are only a few hours til then, and Grantaire plans to take advantage of every second.

(Of course, when they wake up, Enjolras is still there, still saying that he loves him. Grantaire’s willing to have a little faith for once. For Enjolras.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you liked it; please let me know what you thought!!  
> Thank you to Franka, light of my life, for reading this over before I uploaded it - haha you can blame her if there are typos now!!!!! ((kidding they are still on me lol))
> 
> I'm on tumblr at nerds-are-cool and my writing tumblr is theskyis-forever so come say hi!!!
> 
> If you have anything you want me to write, hit me up!!! Can't promise any degree of speed but I love getting new ideas :)  
> Also, if you enjoyed this: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)


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